


Lizard Hooks

by Cyrelia_J



Series: Garak/Bashir AUs [4]
Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Alien Cultural Differences, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Fluff, Humor, M/M, Meet-Cute, Mild Language, Mild Sexual Content, pineapple on pizza
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-11
Updated: 2018-08-14
Packaged: 2019-06-25 17:45:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15645771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cyrelia_J/pseuds/Cyrelia_J
Summary: Colleagues and best friends Jack and Julian have been visiting The Obsidian Porter since the coffeehouse opened in Lower Manhattan. They might also have been pining over the two Cardassian owners in that time as well. Until today that is, when an unexpected change in routine prompts Julian to take a chance.Modern AU- aliens still aliensNow added Chapter 2: featuring a double date at the movies and Julian's sexual frustration





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I really love writing Jack and Julian together (whether it be as lovers or friends because I think they play well off of each other). Thought I'd write some fluff in between the angst and do something a little silly too.

         “You don’t think this is a bit much?” Doctor Julian Bashir asks, the two men standing huddled around the small stand of coffee add ins conspiratorially. His colleague, Doctor Jonathan “Jack” Merriweather, glances furtively behind him, looking over his shoulder before looking back down and adding another creamer. The coffee, though Julian has since begin thinking of it as more a cry for help than a beverage, has been turned into a disgusting sugar slurm the longer they’ve stood there, and Julian is about to just take one for the team and down the entire thing himself. Jack had begun adding the unusual additions - he preferred his Vole whole bean black - the moment he set eyes on the long haired Cardassian barista behind the counter.

           “Of course it’s too much!” Jack hisses back at him, stirring the scalding liquid over the sides onto the wooden counter. “Obviously, it’s too much, obviously I’m not going to drink it hm so why are you drawing attention to it hmhm?” Jack drops his eyes almost immediately, Julian notices, when he sees the Cardassian turning to look over at them. They _have_ been there a touch longer than normal and finally Julian takes the stirring rod, throwing it in the trash, gently shoving Jack to a booth. He notes, the Cardassian, Kelas Parmak he remembers the introduction a few weeks ago- gives a little smile and a curious blink before returning back to the next customer.

           The Obsidian Porter coffeehouse in lower Manhattan is owned by two Cardassian immigrants: Elim Garak and Kelas Parmak. Garak, more frequently seen at the front of the house, is a sturdy Cardassian man of middle years with piercing blue eyes and a smile that makes Julian incredibly warm whenever it’s cast in his direction. His partner, Kelas Parmak is less frequently seen, however he’s an easy to spot sight with his long white braid trailing down his back and his large round spectacles. In all the time they’re been frequenting the new establishment, Julian had yet to see Parmak on a Wednesday, and the same holds true for Jack still brutally stirring the now half empty cup (where he acquired another stirring rod, Julian has no idea) mumbling softly about it.

           “Oh here,” Julian says, switching their cups. He deliberately kept his black, resigning himself to the likely switch the moment that Jack, out of sorts from the established pattern, started dumping in creamer. “Mmm,” Julian takes a sip with an exaggerated smack of his lips. “High fructose corn syrup and soybean oil, my favorite.”

           “You know it’s real heavy cream and real sugar so I don’t know why you’re… thank you,” Jack mumbles into the cup still angling to see around Julian almost pitifully. Although, Julian thinks as he none too discreetly cranes his head to look behind, he doubts he’s any better where Garak is concerned.

           “They’re probably married anyway,” Julian says with a sigh, finding the concoction not _entirely_ unpleasant before the start of what’s likely to be a long shift.

           “They’re not,” Jack declares. Julian raises an eyebrow. “I didn’t _ask_ him, I _heard_ him, heard them hm. Heard them talking about a bad date or something, something human something bad dates mmhm.” Now that’s curious, though Julian really shouldn’t be surprised. He and Jack have been mistaken for lovers so many times he’s since lost count. Really, is it _that_ unusual for two men to have a close friendship? Just because two people live and work together-

           Jack puts his hand over Julian’s absently rubbing it; he’s always liked the way Julian’s skin feels. Alright, so perhaps their lifelong friendship is a bit more close than the standard but still… Julian’s teeth are starting to hurt from the sugar and he sighs.

           “Are you going to be mooning over him here until our shift starts? I was hoping to get a run in at least.”

           “Why? You’re not going to win. It’s Wednesday,” Jack answers, still half staring wistfully after Parmak. Well it might be Wednesday and there might be some odd astrological something or other that tends to favor Jack winning their friendly little jogging race on Wednesdays on a ratio of ninety nine to four but that doesn’t mean that Julian doesn’t need to work out that excess energy.

Besides, Jack just might be distracted enough that he has a chance.

           “No harm in trying,” Julian offers as Jack snorts into his coffee having shifted from his right leg under him to his left and back before deciding to just squat like L from Death Note. Sometimes Julian calls him “L” as a joke to which Jack always responds that would make Julian Light and a Shinigami’s notebook would be completely wasted on him.

           “No harm in trying he says. No harm except having to find a new place to get a decent coffee when he laughs in my face and tells me he doesn’t date humans or augments or men with facial hair and I’m _not_ shaving so-” Julian sighs and gives the table a discreet tap so Jack knows to start dropping his voice. There aren’t any other customers except the usual elderly woman in the back corner booth with one of her books and a pair of headphones always at the ready but still…

           “I was _talking_ about our morning run but you know if you’re that worried about it, how about I make a fool of myself too?” Julian sees the dart of Jack’s hazel eyes from him to Parmak and he bites his thumb a moment.

           “Alright, go on.”

           “So Garak is er… my type-”

           “He’s breathing,” Jack agrees with another long drink. Julian sticks his tongue out.

           “Ha. So I was thinking,” Julian takes a deep breath already finding his nerves starting to creep up on him. God is he really going to do this? “I was thinking that I can ask Garak out first. You know… test the waters and if he turns me down, perhaps you and his partner can have a good laugh about it.” Julian decides that drinking half of that tooth rotting sludge is enough and pushes it to the side. Jack looks at him thoughtfully, nibbling his thumb.

           “You know they have other customs, rituals, an entire lexicon of courtship, of subtleties, of social trappings and Things that you can’t even begin to understand and we’re just as likely to insult them as not and I don’t know how you can…” Jack pauses for a sharp breath. “I don’t know how you can just… just…” He makes a vague wave of his hand before plopping back down on the seat, right leg vibrating under the table.

           “I _know_ , but no guts, no glory, right Ulysses?” It’s a challenge and Jack looks hesitant, but Julian can see that spark as he rubs at his chin actually considering it. It wouldn’t be the first time that the two of them have lost a longtime haunt because of some anxiety of Jack’s or some bad break up of Julian’s. They’re still both banned from the most amazing pizza on God’s Earth (both Julian _and_ Jack on that one).

           “My purpose holds to sail beyond the sunset,” Jack agrees after a muted moment with a nod of his head.

He takes Julian’s hand and squeezes it tight across the table.

           “Glory about thee, without thee, and thou fulfillest thy doom,” Jack says teasing him.

“Cute. You owe me for this,” Julian grumbles as he takes a breath and practically flings himself out of the booth. Had he waited another moment he might have noticed Jack’s hand raise to warn him, however he’s already crashed into whatever dark charger was snaking down the narrow space between the booths and tables. Julian hears the cry of surprise, and looks up just in time to see a tray wobbling precariously, his hands darting up to catch it in the blink of an eye. He catches it, the small cup a slosh onto the surface, the plate untouched. Well that was fortunate, he thinks as his other hand reaches up to steady himself, the surface solid and-

           Ah. That’s not a surface.

           Well, Jack would argue that a shoulder - especially a broad Cardassian shoulder - absolutely fits the definition of a “surface”. However Julian is sure that doesn’t make it any more appropriate. Doubly sure when Jack whispers into his coffee cup low enough for only Julian to hear that he wasn’t expecting Julian to just boldly declare his intention to sleep with Garak. _Right, because a hand on the shoulder is absolutely an invitation and ah.. You really ought to move it, Julian._ He does- after a moment to steady himself on his feet.

           “Yes, I am aware,” Julian answers from behind his hand as he pretends to rub the bridge of his nose. “I’m so so sorry,” he says louder to Garak when he realizes that he’s still so very _close_ to him.

           “Really, I should be offering my apologies as the proprietor. I should think by now that I would know the layout of my own business well enough to avoid any unexpected tripping hazards. I should endeavor in the future to keep a more careful eye out.”

           “He’s flirting with you!” Jack whispers a little louder, pretending to wipe his mouth with a napkin. Julian really doesn’t need the additional commentary as he feels his face heat up - thank the lord for his complexion! - and he smiles, not quite sure exactly how to respond. Should he be insulting? Would that be misconstrued? Well he’s read the same books that Jack has but most of them are full of the same banalities and…

“You’ll excuse me,” Garak says, continuing on to provide the table service the Wednesday corner woman; in his head, Julian calls her Mary. Julian turns to Jack with a bit of a poleaxed look he’s sure, still dumbly standing next to their table. He shuffles his feet akwardly, not sure if he should sit back down or not.

“He’s interesting,” Jack says softly. “Page thirty seven dealt with this mmhm. Remember Padgett’s treatise? Remember chapter five? I know you remember chapter five because you dog eared my copy and this is why they make ebooks because _some_ people can’t handle-”

Right! The cup! Julian downs the last of that overly sweetened sludge, a shiver going through him as he does and he’s sure to once more make his way to Garak’s path careful not to smile too much as they circle to avoid each other.

“Ah sorry again, can’t seem to avoid running into you, Mr. Garak but that’s ah… The hazards of having such a cozy establishment, right?”

“Obvious,” Jack coughs and Julian almost throws the empty cup at his head. Garak doesn’t seem to have noticed, though there’s an answering smile that seems… speculative? Maybe? Hopefully?

“It’s a fair trade. I find our more _discerning_ patrons appreciate the turn of the century architecture rather than dwell on the more modern expectations of an obscene amount of space with which to… what’s the term nowadays? Manspread?”

Julian opens his mouth just in time for his eyes to catch Jack quickly signing _“Insult his age!”_ The two of them had learned ASL as a result of dating the same woman (a lovely nonverbal woman named Sarina- long story, that) and found it useful both personally and professionally. Well, Julian _had_ been considering the dated wallpaper himself but… lord this is starting to play out more like a stupid budget rom com than anything else.

“I suppose that once one reaches a certain age those sort of details become more important than more sensual considerations-” a thumbs up from Jack “-wouldn’t you say, Mr. Garak?”

“No Mister, Just Garak,” Gark answers and as much as his heart is fluttering, Julian can’t help but shoot a smile back at both Garak and Jack.

_“Don’t smile!”_

_“I’m already smiling!”_ Oh lord, he didn’t just actually answer him in the middle of trying to chat up Garak. Maybe Garak didn’t notice? _Right, Julian because that was so subtle._

“You’ll forgive me Doctor Bashir,” Oh god Garak actually remembered his name! “But I really must be getting back to work. I have a lot of inventory to catch up on and with Rugal calling out you can imagine that doesn’t leave much time for socialization. Perhaps you and your… partner might excuse my rudeness-”

“We’re not together!” Julian shouts frantically just as Jack shouts the same with more indignation. They share a look over Garak’s shoulder - Jack sheepish, Julian exasperated. Garak smiles and looks amused? Julian feels himself deflate in relief.

“Well, Kelas will certainly be happy to hear that,” Garak murmurs, Jack’s entire posture straightening up ramrod stiff, looking over to the now empty counter where Parmak is gesturing wildly for Garak to stop talking. “I’m afraid that he’s been beside himself these last few weeks trying to work up the nerve to ask your… associate out in a social capacity.”

Jack’s jaw drops. Julian’s nearly does too. Julian sees Parmak slink down behind the counter a little lower.

“But as for you, my dear doctor,” Garak continues with an obvious sweep of his eyes up Julian’s body, “While I appreciate your attempt at initiating a formal courtship, I fear there’s still so much that I’ll need to teach you about the subtleties of the dance. Perhaps over lunch tomorrow?”

“Oh… Oh that’s Thursday so-”

_“I’ll cover your shift!”_ Jack signs frantically not even looking in his direction any longer.

“So that will work just fine,” Julian answers eagerly, wondering what on Earth is going on with Jack when he sees both Jack and Parmak involved in some sort of odd exchange of expressions and smiles from across the room at each other. Ah. Well Julian isn’t one to look a gift horse in the mouth so-

“Should I…” he trails off seeing Parmak slip out from behind the counter and flip the “Be back in 15” sign around before locking the door. _Does he realize poor Mary is still sitting there?_  “…bring anything?” _Nice, Julian. The handsome Cardassian finally asks you out and here you are staring at your best friend and… what are they…. Oh they can’t be serious!_ Julian finds himself staring as Jack and Parmak (“call me Kelas,” he hears) meet somewhere in the middle with a press of hands that soon becomes much more than just a press and since when did Jack learn how to do _that_? _Chapter seven, Julian._ His mind supplies just as he remembers that right, his every dream is kind of coming true right now so he might do to pay attention to it.

“Bring? Oh no, doctor, I think if anything, I might suggest leaving a few things _behind_. While I admire Mr. Rostand’s works, I think I can do without Cyrano de Bergerac in the flesh.”

“I don’t think that will be a problem at all,” Julian answers just a touch breathless now that it’s Garak’s turn to put a hand on a shoulder. “No, not a problem at all.”

“Excellent. I look forward to it.” Julian supposes, as Garak gives his shoulder a squeeze and excuses himself to pry Kelas and Jack apart and remind “dear Kelas that they are still running a business”, that just this once both he _and_ Jack won this particular Wednesday race.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A double date at the movies gives Julian a chance to jumpstart this stalled relationship.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, this sucked my back in and this idea wouldn't leave me a lone, so here goes. Thank you all for reading!

“The Meg? We already saw The Meg. We just saw The Meg Saturday and you want to watch it again? I thought you hated it hmhm. You said it was your vision of the vision of a man rich in wealth and poor in imagination and you didn’t see why Dax enjoyed it so much.” Jack gives the running commentary as Julian buys the four tickets for the ten fifty show eyes darting around to be sure that their dates haven’t yet arrived to overhear them. Of course Julian doesn’t imagine they will be considering they’re nearly an hour early at Jack’s insistence that they get good seats (in spite of the frequent argument that theaters have had assigned seating for some time and Jack hates lines and waiting and Julian supposes there are worse things than sitting in the lobby messing with his phone.

 

He speaks low as a precaution as they step off to the side, outside the Regal in Battery Park.

“That’s rather the point though, isn’t it? A trash movie that no one cares about, a late show on a Monday night, a nice _dark_ theater…” He trails off seeing Jack raising an eyebrow at him.

“Ah of course, the movie makeout hmhmhm! Clever, cliché but clever,” he agrees with a nod. “Still striking out, still stepping up to the plate and swinging wild, the outlook wasn’t brilliant for the Mudville Nine mmhm.” Julian shoots him a sour expression.

“Right, and it’s not looking good for the Manhattan Julian either.” 

 

Understatement of the century, Julian thinks checking the time on his watch. The vintage LED lights up cheerful red 10:20 as he sighs and leans against the wall. The night is pleasantly cool though Jack is still wearing his standard sweater - only one sweater this time - and pressed gray slacks. Julian can count on one hand the number of times he’s ever seen Jack less than put together outside of exercise, decorum, dressing appropriately, a _gentleman_ , Jack says though Julian isn’t quite so sure what’s to “gentlemanly” about getting caught out by their Goop obsessed neighbor Leeta making out with one’s new boyfriend in the elevator. 

 

Alright, so perhaps Julian is a tad jealous about that.

 

Coming home from a magical (if completely frustrating) date with Garak to find Kelas on the couch and Jack on his knees in front of him was coming damn close to the last straw, having a somewhat stupid row with him about it after Kelas had gone. _“I thought you were asexual!”_ Julian had yelled - not one of his prouder moments - to which Jack had replied indignantly that it was like a sneeze and sometimes it just came up on you and just because he was disinclined didn’t mean things didn’t _work_ and maybe Julian didn’t notice but Kelas was nice and warm and made the most angelic sounds and Kelas was the first person he actually felt attracted to (which made him realize he might actually be demi, right good for him)- God, why did the universe hate him?!

 

“Well you don’t have to be so smug about it.”

“Karma isn’t smug, it just is. Besides, he’s a Cardassian, chapter 3, long courtships hm, unless you skipped that part to get to the good stuff which is how most of your dates go anyway hm.” Julian crosses his arms irritably. Alright, so perhaps Jack is usually the one coming home to a torrid scene in the living room… or the dining room… or the kitchen… but Julian _absolutely_ didn’t skip chapter 3 (alright he might have the first time but he’s read it twice since then) and he knows that even with a plodding pace they still should at least be at the hand holding stage by now.

“Right, like how you and Kelas are going oh so slow.”

 

“Kelas is Kelas,” Jack shrugs, absently chewing on finger, looking down the street as if any moment their dates will come walking up. It’s possible, though unlikely, given that Garak is always early while Kelas is always late although Kelas is a study in contrasts to his “friend”, much like Jack, Julian figures. Garak described him as “sensitive” on their first lunch, which Julian has come to learn was a rather circumspect way of saying “incredibly strange”. One of those quirks included an obsession with pineapple on pizza - which Jack despised and Julian was indifferent to - and the argument between them reached such dizzying levels of fire that Julian was afraid they were actually going to come to blows. What they came to instead was a coupling that nearly shook the plaster off the walls (and broke Jack’s bed) along with some oddly spiteful declaration from Jack that he would happily eat every other fruit in _existence_ on a pizza before pineapple.

 

After tonight’s bananas and ham, Julian sort of wonders exactly who Jack was teaching a lesson.

 

Regardless of Kelas’ usual penchant for tardiness both Cardassians seemed to split the difference, arriving with fifteen minutes before the show. Garak, like Jack, is wearing long sleeves, the wine colored tunic contrasting those stunning blue eyes, the dark green slacks a quirky but still flattering choice that catches Julian’s eyes right away. It makes sense given Cardassian temperature sensitivities but then Kelas next to him is wearing a pair of cut off shorts and a tank top (Garak having also cryptically making a few statements about Northerners and their odd habits) looking entirely comfortable. Still, Garak’s choice of dress makes Julian thankful that he chose not to dress down, the white button down shirt having a few buttons artfully undone and sleeves rolled up, the chinos loose but not slovenly. 

 

The look in Garak’s eyes certainly _seems_ appreciative, lingering on his neck giving Julian hope. He’s almost tempted to act a lot more boldly when he sees Jack bow, take Kelas’ hand, and bring it to his mouth with just a little nip to fingers and a kiss to the back of his hand like he’s fucking Prince Charming. Still, Julian tamps down that bristle, reminding himself that he’s _happy_ for Jack as he dares at least to brush his fingers over Garak’s bicep - sure as hell not daring the shoulder - with a smile. 

“You look quite smart tonight,” Julian compliments, sure to follow it up with a feigned critical eye, “though I don’t know that I would have chosen that particular combination myself, but I’m not as adventurous I guess.”

 

Julian’s heart flutters, Garak looking pleased at his words; lord knows he and Jack had practiced this stupid conversation enough times!

“A thoughtful observation. I too find myself in appreciation for the care you’ve chosen tonight. My, you humans are fond of the amount of skin you like revealing, aren’t you?” Another sweep of those eyes and Julian finds himself blanking for all their rehearsals because how can someone just be _on_ like that all the time? Garak only waits a moment before moving on, looking a bit disappointed as Julian just dumbly holds out the tickets. Jack murmurs next to him “a pall-like silence fell upon the patrons of the game.”

 

Julian might just elbow him when Garak raises a brow ridge and repeats the title on the ticket.

“Interesting,” he comments, Kelas only half glancing at the title and theater likely about as interested in the flick as Jack. It occurs to Julian he might have sat the two of them at the other end the way he’s imagining this playing out but like _that_ wouldn’t look patently obvious.Well, in for a penny, in for a pound…

“Thought it might be fun, though if you think you’ll be scared, you can always hold my hand,” Julian offers lamely, feeling the weight of three eyes fall on him like a sad rain cloud and he just might kind of hate them all.

“I’ll certainly keep that in mind,” Garak says with a chill that sucks all the air out of the room.

“Drinks? Popcorn?” Julian offers loudly, feeling like he’s dying out there. Of course Garak says he’s already eaten. Jack - though he’d sooner die than admit it- likely still has an upset stomach, though Kelas gives a completely vulgar look to Jack and proclaims that he’s feeling quite _thirsty_ all of a sudden.

 

Julian hates everyone.

 

Julian decides to grab Jack and get the drinks so he can breathe and regroup, and remind himself why he ever thought this was a good idea in the first place. The line isn’t awful though he can hear Jack calculating and recalculating the likely time they’ll reach their seats and how much of the previews they can expect to miss before ultimately decided to get pretzels. 

“This isn’t going well,” Julian mumbles as the three bros in front decide they all need to order and pay for their popcorn separately, Jack looking irritated at that.

“A straggling few got up to go in deep despair. The rest clung to the hope which springs eternal in the human breast.”

“You’re so funny," Julian shoves his hands in his pockets shuffling another few inches forward.

 

"Do you need me to?..." Jack pauses that ribbing and looks at him serious, concerned, and Julian knows one word and Jack will bail right along with him, always willing to be the reason that Julian has leave abruptly. “Should I have an upset stomach hm? Throw up on their shoes hmhm?” He almost looks like he’s hoping Julian will say “yes”.

"No, I’m fine. _Really_. It’s just been, like I said it’s been three times we’ve been out and I always think things are going well but he just keeps brushing off every attempt I’ve made getting irritated all of a sudden and I’m starting to wonder if I smell bad or taste bad because I can promise you from what I’ve seen he has _no_ problem expressing dissatisfaction with unwelcome company so there has to be something I’m doing or not doing that’s making him hesitant?"

 

"Maybe you should ask." 

"Oh right why didn't I think of that?"

"Because it’s obvious and you like to overcomplicate things hm."

"Right, Pot."

"Jack," Jack corrects with a smirk pointing to himself. "Tell you what, just keep on keeping on and I think hm I think we can help hmhmhm I know just the thing!" That serious nod coupled with the gleam in his eyes tends to make Julian uneasy. Jack is frighteningly determined once he gets an idea in his head (like the time he convinced Julian to hitch a ride on a moving train so they could "ride the rails like the old tramps in the movies" when they were in middle school), but Julian knows at this point that dissuading him from his current thought is as practical as trying to derail said train.

 

At least the police won’t be taking them back home to their parents in the back of a squad car.

 

\---

 

Scratch that. The police are _definitely_ going to be taking them home in the back of a squad car (though thankfully not to his parents including one Richard "no son of mine" Bashir). That’s what Julian thinks as he grits his teeth and scoots further away from Jack and Kelas to his right. Or rather, the newly formed chimera that he’s dubbed "Jalas" since Kelas decided that Jack’s lap was more comfortable than the cushioned recliner seats, and Jack decided that Kelas’ fingers were far more appetizing than the pretzel bites. Julian’s been relegated to hold the damn things, periodically stuffing one in Kelas’ open mouth to keep him from whimpering too loudly.

 

By some miracle, the only other patrons on the other side of the theater are equally occupied so at least Julian doesn't imagine there will be much issue unless one of the ushers wanders in. The movie is just as unwatchable as it was the first time, only now without the unknown element and expectation that at some point it will actually get better.

"Jack… Jack..." he hears Kelas panting - practically in his ear as sensitive as his hearing is - and he grits his teeth, swearing to god that if they actually start _fucking_ that he’s dumping his drink on them both. Another pretzel gets shoved in to that, Julian positive that Jack hasn't eaten a single one himself.

 

He nearly offers one to Garak seated on his left because why the hell not at this point? Every other attempt he’s made at conversation, a few witty observations here and there, were met with shushing and the final one a withering stare and a waspish censure. _"Forgive me, dear doctor, it was my understanding that we’re to watch this rousing drama that you'd so_ _thoughtfully_ _selected so you’ll understand my confusion at your irrational desire to chatter over it."_  It didn't help that Garak had [like their other dates] been unusually surly since they came back with the refreshments, and Jack just had to add another line from "Casey at the Bat" in response. _So upon that stricken multitude grim melancholy sat, my ass._

 

He yawns loudly, legs jittery, Kelas “accidentally” biting his fingers as Jack decides that somehow being a gentleman now includes slipping a hand down the front of his boyfriend’s shirt. _Boyfriend,_ _boyfriend_ _and I haven’t even gotten a hug!_ Julian himself is started to feel irritated between the heavy panting on his right and Garak’s relentless drumming of fingers on his left alternated with loud slurps of cherry Icee, that he sets the plastic tray on the floor between his legs and decides he’s going to tell the whole lot of them off when he hears Jack’s voice hissing _“it pounded on the mountain and recoiled upon the flat, for Casey, mighty Casey was advancing to the bat.”_

 

“Casey struck out!” Julian grits back, Garak _shushing_ him again and Jack stops dead as if he knows something Julian doesn’t, a quick murmuring exchange of Kelas and Jack in _Kardasi_ or rather some dialect of it that Julian doesn’t quite catch before Jack nods and tells him to go for it. Go for what he’s about to ask when he hears a soft hum of that Little Mermaid “Kiss the Girl” song coming from the right and he’s about to tell Jack that’s the stupidest damn idea he’s ever heard when he figures what the hell? They can find another coffeehouse and whatever bug keeps crawling up Garak’s ass at the end of each of their dates is only getting worse.

 

Jack hardly needs the excuse of the coffeehouse any longer to go and see Kelas, so penny, pound, Julian is doing this. He swallows hard, turning his head, hearing Jack ask softly “are you sure?” following a “go ahead” from Kelas, and before he can ask what on Earth they’re going on about, he’s being shoved into Garak’s face. Jack’s hand on his head is like an outfielder expertly gripping a baseball, Julian's mouth somehow half making it onto Garak’s with an embarrassing swallowed squeak. He’s going to kill him, kill them both because this isn’t grade school and Garak gives him a hard shove in response, standing up, looking absolutely furious at all three of them.

 

“Oh that is it! Guls and ancients, Kelas, we may be friends but this is beyond the pale. I have endured three of these mealy mouth tepid, _miserable_ dates with this man so that you can continue seeing his brother-” _brother?_ “or lover or whatever he is-” _Has no one ever heard of two human men just being friends?!_ “-but I am absolutely finished! He has no sense of proper courtship, he’s been dragging this thing out like a hanging in the Southern Corridor, he’s thoroughly incapable of stimulating debate, he wouldn’t know a hint for escalation if it kicked him in his offensively white teeth, and he can’t even make a proper romantic overture without you literally giving him a shove!”

 

“Excuse me?” Julian says quite quietly, feeling a bit of weird calm settle over him for just a moment.

“My dear lovely boy, you’ll forgive me but I was talking to _Kelas_ if he might pull himself away from his [word that Julian can’t decipher] long enough to listen. I’m sure you’ll make some equally bland human with low expectations a fine mate now as I was saying, Kelas, I don’t care if he’s a nice boy, I don’t care if you think he’d be good for me, _clearly_ our years of friendship have done nothing to properly impart any understanding of what I value in a partner and if you’ll excuse me, I’m putting an end to this ridiculous charade. Kindly let yourself in when you decide you’ve had enough human to satisfy you for the evening and I’ll see you at home.” And really, if Garak hadn’t been addressing Julian’s perceived shortcomings in particular he’d be in as much awe of that performance as the couple on the other end who’ve paused their own romantic entanglements to actually _applaud_ Julian’s humiliation.

 

Oh that does it.

 

“Oh no. Oh nonono, you’re not seeing anyone ‘at home’ until you listen to me a moment you arrogant old lizard.” _Shit just got real,_ he hears and ignores it, feeling his face heat up, feeling a rush of adrenaline as Garak stops his haughty strut down the dark aisle. “I have done everything by the book! I have followed every stupid parlay, every pointless little dig, every needle,every look, every stupid bobble headed tilt to please you and I would have very much liked knowing you find me an unbearable bore three bloody dates ago before _letting_ this ‘drag out like a hanging in the Northern Corridor!’” he steadfastly ignores Jack's pedantic correction of "Southern Corridor".

“Did you say a book? A book?!”

“Yes a book! I can read you know! You’d have known that if you remembered your own stupid third encounter book discussion rule-”

 

“Tell me you did _not_ just attempt to educate me on my own culture’s customs because you skimmed an article in Cosmo!”

“I’m telling you I wanted to impress you because I like you which was _clearly_ a waste of time since apparently you considered my company little more than a favor for your friend!”

“And your idea of impressing a man is to regurgitate talking points from a book like a machine? Points I might add that stalled pitifully as a skimmer in a sandstorm!”

“Well excuse me for not dragging you into a corner of your shop and snogging your snooty ass silly! Forgive me for trying to exercise a little decorum. What would you have me do, Garak? Have it out with you over your appalling taste in music and complete political ignorance?!”

 

“Ignorance?! This from a man who actually cast a vote for Pythas Lok in CNN’s online Council poll?”

“Yes, this from a man who-” Julian stops, breathing hard, realizing that somewhere in all of this he and Garak have come to stand right… in front of each other, his sensitive eyes catching the eager slit of Garak’s pupils and he realizes that his heart is racing, that the ridges of Garak’s face have darkened nearly black and he… oh shit he’s so turned on right now. And he has a sort of brilliant flash back to that absolutely pointless seeming argument between Jack and Kelas over the pizza, the current atmosphere charging his memory with a different tilt as he now remembers the way they had circled each other as they yelled, postured, closer, closer, still hurling invectives as Kelas’ hands tangled in Jack’s hair and Jack’s hand was fisted in his shirt and they were-

 

Kissing.

 

Like Julian and Garak are doing now, in fact, that charge accelerating, dispersing wildly, Julian completely out of sorts, as he grabs Garak by the shoulders kissing him hard, wet, a growl hiss between the two of them, somewhere Kelas muttering “finally” before Julian is sure he turns to shamelessly straddle Jack, movie forgotten entirely, the other two patrons giving some sort of whistle with Jack telling Julian “you’re welcome” somewhere between kissing Kelas stupid. But all Julian can think as Garak tastes like cherry Icee merging with his palate, that Casey might have struck out...

 

...But Julian just hit a home run.


End file.
